


Solo Mission

by Biscuitz



Category: Final Fantasy X-2
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-06 19:58:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15202346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Biscuitz/pseuds/Biscuitz
Summary: After Nooj's disappearance, Leblanc suddenly vanishes too!So what exactly did happen during Chapter 4 when Logos went out looking for her?





	Solo Mission

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first ever fic written in 2006, yes, over ten years ago. But it still has a very special place in my heart.

A dark blanket began to enshroud the small but acclaimed region that was Guadosalam. Night was drawing closer and the inhabitants were beginning to retire. There were only stragglers left awake and they would soon return from their ventures via the Moonflow or the Thunder Plains within the next hour. Usually the Leblanc Syndicate were part of these select few but not on this deplorable evening. Not a single living soul had left Seymour Guado's former mansion for quite some time.

Logos continued to glance round the meeting room and flick his fingernail against his glass of mead. The only other Syndicate member present was Ormi, who sat slouched in a dwarfish, red armchair (that seemed to be struggling under his weight) and looking equally as ennuied. They had been silent for almost an hour now, the only sound filling it was the repetitive 'tink' of Logos's glass.

It was actually getting quite uncomfortable.

"So, erm" Logos finally said smoothly (though it still startled Ormi considerably), "what's our next plan of action?"

Ormi stared into the illuminated sphere in the middle of the room for a moment or two. It showed an intently detailed map of Spira, approximately 4-5 flashing, red points were dotted across it: each symbolising an uncovered sphere…hopefully. God the number of times they had gone to the very bare edges of Spira and discovered that it was just an idle chocobo that had somehow gotten hold of one of those Al Bhed Primers. You would be amazed at how often it happens. Ormi eventually found the urge to turn away and reply to Logos with a shrug and a mumble,

"I don't know."

"Oh, for the love of-!" Logos yelled, slamming his fist down on the arm of his chair. "That doesn't help!" He swallowed the remainder of his mead in one foul swoop.

Logos glared forward, re-collecting his thoughts. He raised the glass to eye level and peered at its emptiness in…disgust? Alcohol always seemed to shorten Logos's temper, as a matter a fact he could become quite violent. However he was intelligent enough to stop himself before too much of the vile liquid could reach his brain and drown out his common sense. He placed the glass down on the table next to him, and slid it out of his reach. He looked at Ormi with an apologetic expression but did not speak. Pride is like one of those cod liver oil tablets: impossible to swallow.

He knew it wasn't entirely the concoctions fault though. Everyone was getting rather up tight lately, Leblanc being the cause of such angst. Less then a week ago news had reached them of Lord Nooj's disappearance, and since then she had not once left the shelter of her bedroom. Logos had been, somewhat discomforted by the news but Leblanc had been devastated. It was surprisingly heartbreaking, for everyone, when she sulked up to her room, not a word passing her lips; a look in her eyes similar to that of a chocobo that had just been run down by a careless hover.

Naturally the first to attempt to provide comfort were the female members of the Syndicate, you know how good they are with, you know, those women troubles. Unfortunately, it was a lost cause and the girls were rejected in quite a shocking manner, if anything it had made Leblanc determined to shut herself away longer. She wouldn't leave her room for anything, sphere hunting, visitors, not even meals, nor did she give permission for anyone to enter. It was causing great concern throughout the Syndicate and in the foreground of everyone's mind was Leblanc's well-being, but no more so than Logos's.

It was well known (unfortunately) that Logos enjoyed the female figure, a lot. Especially when it came to his viewing pleasure. What wasn't so well known was the fact that, even though he did delight in gawking at her backside, he did admire and respect Leblanc as a woman. If anything could be said he had quite the 'crush' on her. But alas the feelings just weren't returned and probably never would be. Logos tried many a time to consider other courtships, however, at the end of it all he just couldn't accept the fact that it could be anyone other then her. He had a good feeling that her wondrous image would haunt the back of his mind until his dying day. Good Lord that was depressing.

"I'm…going for some fresh air" Logos said indecisively, still frustrated.

Ormi glanced up from the floor with a defeated face (he had been staring at it since Logos's outburst) and gave a quiet 'hmm' of acknowledgement.

Logos closed the door behind him swiftly; as he continued down the passage he slipped a cigarette into his mouth and fumbled for a match. Perhaps this showed just how anxious he was. He hadn't smoked since he army days; in effect he'd given it up…well, 'allegedly' given it up. The only times he ever did were times of great stress and that was exceedingly rare for a man as collected as he. It didn't particularly matter since Ochu pollen was essentially harmless, in fact it was said to be good for you on some level. However, actually smoking it was not looked on as a gentlemen's trait, so if Logos was to 'light up' he'd do it in the privacy of his bedroom.

Despite it all though, he was desperate to clear his mind and the tension was getting overwhelming. He'd take this one publicly. He crossed the main hall and the entrance parlour in great strides, all the while struggling to get his now obtained match to strike a flame. Finally it became ablaze as he crossed the threshold and stood out into the damp, dark atmosphere. He inhaled as the cigarette absorbed the flickering glow.

"How's it going?" Came a somewhat goofy voice beside him.

Logos turned to the goon on duty and raised an eyebrow. The essence of 'what the hell do you want?' smeared across his face. He exhaled a stream of smoke through the side of his mouth.

"Not…good." He answered exasperated by the whole situation.

He stepped down from the porch and began to pace back and forth, taking the occasional puff as he did. The goons simply stared at him awkwardly, fidgeting every now and again. This was insane, you work hard enough to get a woman in the bedroom, let alone get her back out. Logos inhaled again and gazed up to the framework over the front door. He stared at it for a good three minutes; in deep thought. He didn't look away until he realised just how much pollen was in his mouth and had to depose of it quickly by coughing it out. One of the goons looked a tad repulsed. Logos turned his nose up at the roll of paper then flicked it away bitterly.

"That's it." He said turning to the door and re-entering the mansion. "I've had enough."

The door flung shut. The goons glanced at each other, confused. Logos ascended the stairs confidently, until he was halfway up. He hadn't quite thought this through, had he? Outside he had been admittedly in a daze, whether it was the pollen (or the alcohol prior to it) he really wasn't sure but he hadn't considered this as much as he should have. Too late to turn back now though: it seemed his body had disconnected itself from his brain, damn it! He hated when that happened. He was now advancing on Leblanc's bedroom door and the temptation for flight was getting stronger with each step. His hand touched the stone cold handle and turned it gentle. He veered the door open a fraction, a miniscule slither of light spilled out. He allowed the door to open a touch more so he could peek round it and investigate.

"Boss?" He said just audible. No reply. "Boss?" he repeated this time louder.

His eyes scanned the bed but could not see her petite figure. He let the door swing open with a familiar but somewhat forgotten creak. He stepped onto the decorated marble floor.

"Leblanc?" Still no reply. Logos approached the bed and pulled back the gossamer veil.

Empty.

 


End file.
